The boat was sinking into the water, the spray washing over the cabin and crashing onto the aft deck, soaking us to the skin. She whispered in my ear:
“I wasn’t proud on the dock, yet I felt an indescribable pleasure in showing myself naked.”
“Let’s hurry home.”
Her dress was becoming less transparent with the heat and the wind that had partially dried it. She was practically naked. She was wearing heels that matched her outfit. She let out a soft moan, arching her back to highlight her pubic mound. Sylvie’s white dress had become transparent, highlighting every detail of her figure. Finally, we arrived at the apartment. In the middle of a summer day, we decided to go to Porquerolles. Over her swimsuit, she wore a light white cotton dress with thin straps, leaving her shoulders and upper body free.
